Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1894) v1.djvu/56

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Nothing the more I know: dark sayings thine.

Know'st not the doom whereon she needs must light?

I know she pledged herself to die for thee.

How lives she then, if she to this consented?

Mourn not thy wife ere dead: abide the hour.

Dead is the doomed, and no more is the dead.

Diverse are these—to be and not to be.

This, Herakles, thy sentence: that is mine.

But now, why weep'st thou? What dear friend is dead?

A woman—hers the memory we mourn.

Some stranger born, or nigh of kin to thee?